Five Minutes or Life
by The Neliel Tu
Summary: Grimmjow x Neliel. Things I write in five to fifteen minutes.


_Well, here we go again. Something short and simple, morbid, too. Sorry. I highly doubt I'll be continuing this, as I have many other stories with loose ends to tie up. That, and there is hardly ever any time. I never have more than a half hour to write, but I need to write every day, dammit. _

_Anyway, enjoy, please.  
_

"You look at me with strange eyes," She said, blinking at him. The lights were too bright, and his face was too strange.

"Yeah, cause you're strange looking. Who the hell has green hair?"

"And who has blue?" She smiled for a second, shifted on her feet, and licked the inside of her mouth. "We're both strange looking, and you know this. But then again, we aren't." She yawned, hardly bothering to cover her mouth. "But you're looking at me strangely, as though you've never seen me before."

"I don't think I have." He frowned, scratched the back of his head, and sighed. "I'm not sure who you are right now."

"You sound so deep for such a brute." She sniffed, lifted her chin and turned. She walked until her body became a silhouette in the misty twilight. He made to follow, waiting until he couldn't hear her footsteps. She turned and called over her shoulder to him, but her voice was mute.

Then her silhouette disappeared completely, with nowhere for it really to go. Had Neliel only ever been a ghost to him?

He scoffed, turned and walked off. No, Grimmjow wasn't insane. He had only imagined the conversation. He told himself so over and over again until the voice in his head wavered and he wasn't so sure.

Six months had passed, and he recalled the date—May Seventeenth—as clearly as his own name. He paced restlessly down rows of pews, his footsteps ringing in his ears but no one else's. Six months ago, Neliel had died. He knew not the cause, only that she would no longer appear to smile sweetly in his face, or chide him for challenging her.

He had never realized just how much he would miss those moments of her presence. She was vibrant and filled with life, even if she was not alive. Sometimes, Grimmjow wanted nothing more than to collapse in her warm embrace and try to feel the life Neliel felt daily.

He knew now he never would. The only time he had ever held her was as she died. He held her as the life slipped away. Though he grasped at the life she held, he could not hold onto it. He had to battle to feel alive, to make himself feel worth something.

Strangely, she had once made him feel worth something. Sometimes she would smile and tilt his chin up with one finger. She would caress his cheek for a second, stare into his eyes, but the next moment he would only see her back. She was an elusive creature, and one he knew he would never master.

It didn't change the fact he had wanted to. He wrestled with the feelings and emotions stirring within him. It was because six feelings were enough, and love was not one of them. Or…was it? It couldn't be. He was a hollow, and underneath it all he was only bloodthirsty. So he reminded himself every time thoughts of Neliel gave him pause.

As time went on, his doubt grew. He doubted his thirst for blood, and began to think. He hated thinking above all things—but above all things was the need for companionship. He didn't need anyone if he was the king! But how could he be a king if there were no subjects to rule over?

He hated to think of it, but how could he not when these were the most important things in his 'life'?

And Neliel was gone.

_She sat beneath a waterfall, her eyes glimmering even though there was no light. The moon was a sliver in the sky, yet still she shone. With half-lidded eyes, she looked to him, utterly relaxed. There were no words needed, yet she could not beckon him to her. _

_ He stood still, watching her awkwardly. She leaned on her hands, head tilted upward toward the disappearing moon. He sighed, scratched the back of his head and dropped to his knees. She whispered something under her breath, but he couldn't catch the words. _

_ Grimmjow yawned then, shaking his head to clear the drowsiness. He couldn't fend it off, and instead curled up on the ground. He slept there, waiting for Neliel to grow bored of the water and its charm. He slipped in and out of fitful dreams, clawing desperately at the lush grass. _

_ When he opened his eyes, Neliel had gone. He pushed himself upright, looking around in a daze. He blinked, curious as to where she was. "Neliel? Where the hell did you go?" He called out. There was no response. She had never strayed too far from him in all the time she'd followed him. Something wasn't right. _

_ He eyed the area until he found slightly trampled grass. Neliel's reiatsu lingered there. It was faint, but he could track her. Another reiatsu mingled with hers, but it was unfamiliar. He followed the trail, crashing through seemingly miles of forest. _

_ His throat became raw from breathing heavily, an entirely new experience for him. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for any signs that Neliel had left the path. He shoved branches aside, frantic to find her. Her reiatsu was gradually becoming harder to track, so he knew to hurry. _

_ Then, he saw the familiar green waves of hair. What wasn't familiar was her state. Broken, bleeding and already dying. He faltered, not sure if this really was Neliel. Her lids lifted to reveal cloudy, utterly confused brown eyes. For a split second, she recognized him. Then, her eyes shut again. _

_ "Neliel…" Grimmjow rushed to her side, cradling her fragile body in her arms. He already knew her condition was bad. Anywhere he could take her to be healed was too far. She would die just from sonido'ing. _

_ She said nothing, and suddenly she was just as lifeless as he. Her face was pale from lack of blood, her body cold and hard. She had a slight pulse, and still breathed, but she was far gone, and he knew. _

_ He smoothed her hair back and sighed. How could he have slept through something like this? How could he have let his companion get captured, and killed? _

_ Neliel clutched at him with her fading strength opened her right eye and struggled to speak. _

_ "I—" _

_ Grimmjow put a finger up to shush her. "I know." He nodded, and a faint smile held her lips as she breathed for the last time. _

_ He set her gently on the ground, watching as she slowly dissipated. His stomach dropped, and he was forced to look away. _

"You look strange." She smiled sweetly, and he found himself wondering when she had appeared.

"Why are you tormenting me?" He demanded. She widened her eyes and backed up a step. She held her hands up innocently.

"I'm not tormenting you! It's the other way around. You're keeping me so close to your heart—you just won't let go." Neliel mopped at her forehead. "I don't understand it. I'm dead, aren't I? Haven't you accepted that?"

"No." He admitted.

"I thought it'd be impossible for you to admit to that." She yawned, perching herself on a pew. Grimmjow's stomach sank when he realized he could see the bench through her body.

"Why would you think that?" Grimmjow mumbled halfheartedly.

"You're Grimmjow, that's why. Why else?" She cocked her head. She had a point, Grimmjow thought. "And of all people, you choose me to open up to. You're strange. You look different."

"There won't be peace." He told her.

"Sure there will be." She smiled luxuriously, stretching her legs before her.

"When?"

"When you die, of course." She shrugged. "Death is the only true cure for illness. And if you want cured, I can surely arrange for you to die." She nodded. "However you want to be killed, it doesn't matter to me."

"Who says I want to die?" Grimmjow growled.

"Who says you have to die to be dead?" Neliel huffed, dropping her feet to the floor. As soon as they touched, she disappeared. Grimmjow was left to stare at empty space, eyes wide.

He contemplated her words, wondering what she could mean. He was crazy—he just had to be. But the more he thought it, the less it seemed so. He wasn't crazy. She was a ghost inside of his head. She lived on because he held onto her.

How could he die without being dead? He frowned, scoffed and left the chapel. In six months time, he would visit the site of her death and seek his answers, but for now he had to figure out whether he had to die to do so.


End file.
